We bought Greg a $5 bubble gun not too long ago, and he’s been having a blast with it since. With fresh batteries installed, it produces an endless swarm of bubbles, that, driven by the wind, spiral gracefully down our street…and soapily adhere to the newly-washed gleaming surfaces of luxury vehicles. Above, in less windy conditions, Greg attempts to fill our kitchen with bubbles—unsuccessfully, of course, due to the screen on the window.
But when the batteries start to lose their juice (and they do in a short time, thanks to Greg’s permanent trigger finger), the air flow from the nozzle no longer produces swarms of tiny bubbles, but rather work to inflate one big one, which he really gets a kick out of seeing.
It’s too bad that these greasy gigantors don’t detach from their maker and loft themselves wobbily on the wind, onto newly-washed surfaces of luxury vehicles. Nevertheless, add this gun to his ever-growing collection of toys that I would’ve killed for when I was a kid.
